It's a misty spring day. Yes, the rain I was looking forward to before going to bed yesterday is moistening the world delicately and silently. The green buds I want are about to be pulled out, and the colorful purples and reds I want are also being carefully dressed up...
A mother-in-law pedaled her bicycle as fast as she could, and her bright flower headscarf flashed past my eyes.
{This old woman wearing a flowered headscarf on a bicycle made me fall into a tortuous and fragrant dream. Before falling into the dream, I vaguely remembered a story in which there was an old woman spinning a spinning wheel... What does the old woman spinning a spinning wheel have to do with Witch 13? Why was she locked and spinning alone in that mysterious house, a cold palace in a fairy tale? }
Holding on to the alloy window grille, this solid cage imprisoned my youth, shutting out the sun, the breeze, and the fresh rain and mist outside the window. Only the blooming posture of the roses allowed me to imagine the fragrance of the flowers...
Other texts by Shi Si Niang:
"Fading Red" http://www. Jjwxc. Net/onebook. Php? Novelid=334420
"Spring Apricot Blossoms Blowing Head" http://www. Jjwxc. Net/onebook. Php? Novelid=335040